


Pure

by eatreadwritesleep



Series: A Punk and a Flower Child [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Forgive Me, M/M, Punk!Louis, flower child!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:28:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatreadwritesleep/pseuds/eatreadwritesleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Louis is an angry and fed up misunderstood punk who finds himself in the company of a very beautiful and very naked boy with a crown of flowers on his head. Which can alternatively be summarized as the author totally took the whole flower child thing to the extreme and she is so sorry but she is glad that you’re reading her nonsense anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pure

**Author's Note:**

> Blame the Flower Child!Harry edits.

It wasn’t even his fault. Everybody knew that Nick could be cool one day and an asshole the next, so yea he might of sat at the guy’s lunch table yesterday, and had a good ol’ time, and punched his teeth out today. That’s just how it goes.

Except his mother was pissed and had been screaming at him for the past hour, starting a first with the fight, and then moving to his grades, and then to other stuff like always coming home late, and all the tattoos and black clothing and gauges and lip piercings and eye brow piercings and eye liner and that devil music, how can you listen to that stuff Louis, I raised you better than this, I feel like I don’t know you anymore, and that’s all it takes for him to tell her what to do with herself and leave, not even halfway down the street before he has a cigarette in his hands.

His tattoos were awesome, his eyes came out really badass, and his music taste was freakin magical, so screw her and everybody else who judged him.

He stomped angrily, before he turned back around and went to her rose bushes, kicking them angrily. He bent down and took one in his hand, and pressed his newly lit cigarette into one of the petals. Then something weird happened. The stem pricked him, and he yelped in pain…and then it suddenly flew out of his grasp. Startled, because there definitely hadn’t been any wind, he sucked on his finger before going to pick it up again. Taking it firmly in his hand, he stared at it in wonder, and this feeling overcame him. He really needed to go; where; he didn’t know, but he just needed to be moving right now. So he stared at the rose and started to walk, paying no mind to the direction, just as long as he made it. The last of his coherent thought told him to drop the cigarette, and he did, before numbly wandering off.

When he finally came to his senses, he looked away from the slightly burnt and wilted rose, and gasped. This was some type of…forest. The trees were full, the grass lush and soft, even under the soles of his converse. It was bright and beautiful, and everywhere he turned, there were flowers. Flowers of all kinds, and colors, brilliant and breathtaking and damn… he felt so out of place here. With all his black and anger and hatred, standing in a place so pure and untouched. A light breeze caressed him and he gazed up and the covered tree sky, drowned out in this dome of literal perfection. 

Something moved out of the corner of his eye, and he turned sharply.

“Who’s there?” he asked, clenching his fists and ready for a fight, unintentionally crushing the rose in his hands further.

The breeze died abruptly, and Louis felt goose bumps traveling up his tatted arms. He stayed still, looking around carefully, when he spotted something from behind a tree.

“I can see you.” he said, the harshness of his tone piercing through the serene atmosphere. 

Slowly, whatever was behind the tree moved out slightly, and Louis was struck with the sight of the most beautiful boy he had ever seen. The boy crawled out from behind the tree and sat still and straight, staring at Louis intently. Louis let his eyes wander. The boy was pale, and naked, sitting in the grass that dulled in comparison to his eyes, which shined bright and wet, as if he were about to cry. Wild curls adorned his head, and a beautiful crown of flowers sat comfortably atop them, only making him all the more beautiful. Plump pink lips were formed into an adorable pout, and his head titled slightly as he looked at Louis, eyes wide and filled with an innocence Louis wished he still had. And then those eyes changed focus, staring intently at Louis’ right hand. Louis noticed his gaze and looked at his clenched fist, bringing it up and opening it to reveal the battered rose from his mother’s garden.

The light in the forest dulled noticeably. 

Louis looked up and around him, before back at the boy, only to scream and jump back. The boy…creature…it was right in front of him, so much taller than he had seemed, and suddenly very, very, intimidating. Louis’ heart sped up as he stared up into those blank green eyes. He flinched when he felt something touch his hand. Looking down, he watched as his fingers were pried open, and the rose was taken from his palm gently. 

The taller boy stepped back, and knelt on the ground, surveying the ruined rose in his hands sadly, before digging a small whole in the ripe dirt and placing it there, covering it. He closed his eyes, and Louis watched, mouth agape, as a new rose grew from the tiny grave in an instant.

No.  
Freaking.  
Way.

“What the hell?” he whispered.

Green eyes shot back to him, and a soft melodic laughter sounded, bringing back the sun and the breeze that had suddenly vanished.

It-because humans definitely couldn’t raise flowers from the grave…and Louis definitely wasn’t freaking out- Flower Jesus-plucked this new rose and made his way toward Louis, who found himself stepping further and further back until he was leaning against a tree. Flower Jesus came closer and closer, before pressing against Louis completely. He slowly brought the rose up to Louis’ hair, hands lingering there before he moved back and smiled softly.

Louis released the breath he totally didn’t know he was holding, so cliché in this place of absolute originality, and touched his head, only to feel his own crown of what seemed to be red roses perched carefully on his hair. He moved his fringe slightly to the side, fixing it.

“Thank you…”he whispered, with wide eyes. 

The boy blushed, before taking a seat on the grass. Flowers sprung up all around him, becoming a mini garden in the forest of like, Narnia or wherever the hell they were. 

Louis gazed on his naked form, blushing.

Flower Jesus stared up at him and damn if it wasn’t the most amazing sight, and he felt even worse for getting turned on in a place that was probably the purest in all of the UK. 

Slowly, Louis sat down, wondering what the sight of him in all his punk glory looked like with this flower wreath on his head. He blinked, and when he reopened his eyes, Flower Jesus was in front of him again. He jumped, not having time to catch his breath as he felt hands on his arms. Without meaning too, he held them out for the boy to see. Large hands traced his arms, going over the multiple designs all around them, before those eyes were locked on his again and he couldn’t move and couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think. He could only stare back and sink further and further into them, growing dizzier by the second until he flopped onto the grass. He wheezed, wondering what the hell was happening to him.

And then the boy was on top of him, straddling him and gazing down at him in wonder, and it was almost too much, because this boy was so unearthly beautiful and radiant and well, screw pretty words, he was sexy as hell and definitely naked and Louis was a little too gay to think good thoughts, and the boy seemed to realize what was happening and all but turned red and jumped off of him, hiding his face. 

Louis laid there panting and trying to think ugly thoughts to will away his raging boner but how do you think ugly thoughts in such a pretty place?

It was silent between them, the breeze ever constant and comforting. Finally, Louis sat up, and looked over.

“Can you understand me?”

Green eyes peeked from between the fingers covering his face, and he nodded.

“Can you talk?”

The boy shrugged.

“Say something. Anything.”

Louis wanted to hear his voice…he wanted to understand him.

“If you don’t say anything, I’m going to keep calling you Flower Jesus.”

That melodic laughter floated by his ear again, even brighter than before.

“How do you do that?” asked Louis, more to himself.

The boy cocked his head to the side again.

“My name is Louis. Nice to meet you, Flower Jesus.”

The boy shook his head and smiled, pointing at his chest.

“Harry.”

Louis startled, shocked at the fact that something so deep could come out of…well…him.

“Shut up!” he gasped.

Flower Jesus-I mean-Harry’s eyes bunched up, clearly hurt, and that expression looked horrible on him. 

“No, don’t shut up…it’s an overused figure of speech and I’m an idiot.”

Harry shook his head.

“You’re not an idiot, Louis.”

The way he said his name, so…he didn’t know but it just sounded…it was just…Christ. 

“Harry…I…where am I? How did I get here? What are you?”

“You’re home, I don’t know, and I don’t know.”

Louis frowned.

“You don’t know what you are?”

“No.”

“So how can you understand me?”

Harry shrugged, glancing up at the tops of the trees, his eyes sparkling when they hit the sunlight.

“Beautiful…” Louis whispered.

Harry glanced over at him.

“The trees say only those with a pure heart can enter. You’re the first person I’ve talked to.”

Louis scoffed, picking at his ripped jeans. 

“I’m as bad as they get.”

Harry stared at him.

“I mean…look at what I did to your rose buddy.”

Harry ran his hands softly against a daisy.

“Even the most pure make mistakes, Louis. They have forgiven you for it.”

Louis stared back, and realized he was so in over his head with this whole…thing…whatever it was.

Harry looked back up, seeming to listen, before turning to Louis again.

“They choose who comes and goes…and still found you worthy even though you destroyed your mother’s garden.”

Louis paled.

“What the hell are you!?” he asked, standing up, the nervousness he felt coming off as anger.

“Why are you upset?”

“Is that a serious question?”

“Please don’t yell.”

Louis took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down.

“They say to tell them why you hurt so much. Let it out.”

And he does. He didn’t mean too, but it built up and just spewed forth in an angry tirade. He spoke about how nobody really understood him, a seemingly overplayed and typical teenage story, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. He spoke about his teachers’ disdain, his inability to back down from a fight, his anger, his pain, his mother’s disappointment, all this pent up crap that he really shouldn’t be telling to a stranger. 

He was talking to a boy who grew flowers, quite literally, and some…trees.

“People judge and fear what they don’t understand, Louis.”

“It still sucks.”

“Prove them wrong.”

Louis rolled his eyes.

“Really?”

“Don’t mock them. They mean well. They say to prove them all wrong, show them your true beauty…show them what they see…what I see.”

Blue eyes gazed into green.

“What do you see?” he asked softly.

Harry was suddenly in front of him again.

“The most beautiful thing here.”

Louis laughed.

“I have to call Zayn. I think he gave me bad weed and I passed out or something.” he mumbled to himself.

“This is real.”

“No it isn’t. I’ve gone mental.”

Soft lips pressed against his.

Louis leaned back, staring wide eyed, before he muttered a small, “Oh”, and grabbed Harry’s head, pulling him back into another kiss.

It was so surreal, whatever this was, and for a boy who’d never met anyone else, and only had trees and flowers for friends, he was amazing with his mouth and oh…his tongue, laced with a taste he couldn’t describe but he really needed more of it, all around and in his mouth and everywhere, please, more more more more more more, and Louis has just been called pure of heart but he feels anything but, plundering in this undiscovered cavern that is Harry’s mouth, tongue tracing everything it can, going as far as possible and swirling around and God he needed even more, and he could feel Harry’s hands on his back, lifting his shirt to feel him, and yes that was good, very good, more skin to skin contact was nice, and that’s right… Harry was naked, and that’s all it took for Louis to make his way on top of the taller boy, pushing him to the ground and reveling in the heat of the skin he could feel through his clothes, and damn it he was so greedy, because he needed more, even more. Could this never stop? Could they just kiss like this forever? His brain was literally cursing him out for the lack of oxygen but breathing just didn’t seem important when his body could feel this good…

But his need for oxygen prevailed, and their lips separated with an obscene sound that echoed about the forest around them.

Both boys panted, staring at each other with diluted eyes nearly overtaken with lust.

“I’ve never done that before…”whispered Harry, his lips swollen and even brighter and Louis really wanted to kiss him again.

“Are you sure?” he gasped out, licking his lips that were so desperate for another round.

Harry’s gaze drifted to Louis’ lips, lingering, his voice coming out even deeper.

“Very. I want to do it again. I feel…I-

Louis shifted and Harry let out a small moan that nearly had his penis exploding, as nasty as that sounded, but that’s how it felt, because he just…he-

Harry’s lips were on his again, eager and wasting no time. They kissed and kissed, losing track of time Louis wasn’t sure even existed in a place like this. They separated again, and Louis looked around him, gasping at the flowers that seemed to have grown and flourished even more, surrounding them.

Harry looked around as well, blushing.

“Harry, I-

Harry glanced upward, and Louis trailed off. When Harry looked back, his eyes were sad.

“They say you need to go…” he whispered.

Louis was too badass for tears, really, he was, promise, but he was just about ready to wail.

“Why? Are they angry at me?” he asked.

“No, they’re not. It’s just…you need to go home. Your mother is worried.”

“I want to stay here.” said Louis.

“You can’t stay.”

“Then come with me.”

Harry shook his head sadly.

“I can’t. I’ve ne-

He looked back up, before smiling.

“Well…not yet.”

“So…I’ll see you again?”

Harry glanced up.

“Yes.”

Louis nodded, slowly standing up, and Harry sat up, staring up at him.

“How do I leave?” he asked softly.

“Turn around, and walk straight.”

Louis bit his lip, moving to turn around but stopping himself. Instead, he walked backwards a few steps, and he could almost feel the laughter and amusement of the nature around him. He waved. 

“Until next time then.”

Harry nodded.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” said Harry.

Louis stared, before taking a deep breath and willing himself to turn around, walking straight. Nervous, he quickly turned back and…

Harry was gone. The flowers were gone, the beautiful trees, the soft breeze, the warmth…it had all vanished. He slumped, turning back around and gasping at the fact that he was back in his neighborhood. Walking slowly, he wondered if it had really all been a dream. He made his way back to his house, the door slamming open before he reached it.

“Louis William Tomlinson! Where did you go? I called you and it’s been hours and I was worried and-what is that on your head?”

Louis’ eyes widened, and he reached up, feeling his rose crown…the one Harry had made for him.

It had all been real after all. 

Louis smiled a brilliant smile that Jay hadn’t seen in years, as he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek before rushing up to his room.

He ran to his mirror, gazing at the bright red roses that sat atop his head, very beautiful and oh so very real.

He touched them lightly.

“Until next time, Harry.”

**Author's Note:**

> There will probably be a part 2.
> 
> I'm so sorry for this nonsense.


End file.
